


Naming

by Jennie_D



Series: Becoming New [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beyond the Wall - Freeform, Free Folk Culture and Customs, Free Folk Jon, Free Folk Jon Snow, Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: s08e06 The Iron Throne, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Wildling Jon Snow, Wildlings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 03:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennie_D/pseuds/Jennie_D
Summary: “You need a name,” Tormund’s youngest offered one night.“I have a name. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but it’s Jon Snow.”Munda snorted and rolled her eyes.“No, not a name like that. That’s not a proper name, doesn’t say anything about who you are or what you’ve done. You need a name like Papa’s, Giantsbane, his has a story.”





	Naming

“You need a name,” Tormund’s youngest offered one night.

Jon looked to where the girl, Munda, a child of nine, sat by the fire next to her father. Young though she may be, she was always filled with opinions and never failed to offer them. She had taken to Jon quickly; he’d only been traveling beyond the Wall with them for three months, yet already she was quick to ask him for southron tales and to include him in her games. He smiled at her affectionately. 

“I have a name. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but it’s Jon Snow.”

Munda snorted and rolled her eyes.

“No, not a name like that. That’s not a proper name, doesn’t say anything about who you are or what you’ve done. You need a name like Papa’s, Giantsbane, his has a _story_.”

Jon was at a bit of a loss on how to answer this, and simply bent down to pet Ghost at his side, but Tormund chuckled.

“My girl’s a bright one, isn’t she? She’s right too. You’ve been needing a new name for a while now, you’ve done plenty of great deeds.”

“I don’t know that my deeds have been great,” Jon breathed quietly, focusing intently on scratching Ghost behind the ears. 

Tormund softened. “Maybe not all your deeds. But you've done more good for us than we could ever account for. You deserve to be recognized with a name.”

Jon, his hands still buried in Ghost’s fur, looked up at Tormund, and was a bit overcome at the compassion and tenderness he saw in his face. Despite himself, Jon smiled. 

Tormund grinned back and said more loudly, “That’s settled then. We’ll find you a name.”

This caught the attention of Anja as she passed by the fire with a bucket of elk stew. “What, we’re finally giving the Crow a proper style?” She put the bucket down and sat across from Jon. “Well that’s easy, call him ‘The Crow Who Flew Free.’”

“That’s too long!” Munda countered.

“The Free Crow then.”

“There’s been a lot of free crows who left the Watch, it’s not special enough.”

As the argument continued, more and more Free Folk started to gather around the fire. Some Jon knew well, others only by face. Though the camp was readying itself for sleep, apparently naming someone was considered a great game, and no one wanted to miss the fun.

Eventually near twenty people were congregated near Jon, passing around stew and fermented goat’s milk and shouting suggestions. Some names were serious, others nonsensical, and Jon found himself laughing along with some of the more ridiculous ones. 

“Jon Iceslayer!”

“Jon the Bad Drinker!”

“The Commander Come Over!”

“Jon the Dour!” This was offered by Ujarak, a young man often given to foolish pranks.

“Dour?!” Jon said incredulously, trying to hide his mirth. 

“You’ve always got that dour look on your face,” Ujarak countered with a smile.

“Aye, I’m dour around you, your jokes are about as funny as a spear between the ribs.”

This drew a laugh from Tormund and several others assembled, and another round of drinks was poured.

“Jon the Dragonrider!”

Jon felt his heart flip in his chest, and looked quickly towards the direction of the call. It had been said by Brynjar, an innocent boy of only seven who clearly meant no harm. But suddenly Jon was aware of all the eyes on him, the people judging him. More names were offered, but Jon did not hear them. He was thinking only of the names they would have for him in the south. 

_Oathbreaker, Queenslayer, **Kinslayer**._

The voices around him seemed harsh noise, growing ever and ever louder. He buried both hands in Ghost’s fur. The wolf came up to lick his ears and Jon hid his face behind him, trying to breathe deep and use Ghost’s scent to calm him. He breathed in the aromas that clung to the wolf, pine needles and elk’s blood, and thought for the thousandth time that he should never have left this, never have gone south, never have become - 

Jon was suddenly aware of a large hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. He chanced a glance up from Ghost’s fur and saw that Tormund had moved next to him. He smiled at Jon softly and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Jon felt himself calm a bit. Tormund subtly jerked his head back towards their tent, silently asking if Jon needed to leave, to get away from all this and chase the bad thoughts away with rest.

Jon thought for a moment, then shook his head. He already felt his heart slowing down; felt his breath evening out. No, he had Ghost and Tormund near him now. Jon would need rest soon, but he knew he could face this with Tormund by his side. 

Tormund nodded, then moved his hand to Jon’s back again. He looked at the crowd and spoke over the din.

“Alright, quiet, quiet all of you. I have the true name.”

“Well what is it then?” asked Ujarak.

Tormund smiled as he looked not at the group, but into Jon’s eyes.

“Jon the Wolfhearted.”

“Why that name?” asked Anja.

“Well for one, because he and this great wolf of his are attached at the hip.” There was some soft laughter at this, yet Tormund continued on. 

“But mostly because he’s loyal, and true. Like a wolf, when he finds those he considers pack, considers home, he’ll stop at nothing to protect them. He didn’t abandon his sister when she needed his aid, he didn’t abandon us when the damn Crows were screaming at him to do so. It honors both the family that raised him, and his new family.”

Jon had been blushing a bit, his eyes fixed on the ground, but at this he looked up at Tormund, who gave him another reassuring smile.

“And he is family, make no mistake.”

There was a chorus of “aye” round the fire, and Jon felt warmer than he had in weeks.

“Besides,” Tormund added with a grin, reaching over to ruffle Jon's hair, “we all know that this laced up, over proper lord of a Crow has always truly been a wild scruffy thing, wanting to howl and run free.” 

Jon playfully pushed Tormund's hand away. There was some more light laughter, then Anja called out. “Well, what say all of you? Is he well named?”

“Yes!” cried Munda excitedly.

“Suppose it’s slightly better than mine,” admitted Ujarak.

“And what do you say Jon?” Tormund asked quietly. 

Jon thought for a moment, the name settling into his chest. It felt right, felt true, not just because his love for Ghost or any of the words Tormund had spoken. But because Tormund had offered it, because Tormund had named him.

“Aye, Wolfhearted, I do quite like the sound of that.”

“Well then!” Tormund, one hand still on Jon’s back, raised his drinking horn high over his head. “A toast to Jon the Wolfhearted, Man of the Free Folk!”

A cheer went up and more drinks were passed, and Jon felt the earlier agitation leave him completely. His heart was full, and a sense of belonging rooted into him. 

After a few minutes Munda was collected by her mother, and Tormund made their goodbyes to the group. Another toast went up as they left, and Jon left the fire hearing the cheer of his new name.

“Are you truly alright Jon?” Tormund asked as they were settling into their furs. 

“Yes.” Jon felt peaceful as he lay warm between Tormund and Ghost. “Not just alright, I’m happy.” 

It felt an odd thing to admit, but Jon sighed contentedly as he felt Tormund grin against his neck. 

_“Then sleep well, Jon the Wolfhearted.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading! There's a tumblr post for this fic here [https://tormundjonthings.tumblr.com/post/186382442523/you-need-a-name-tormunds-youngest-offered-one](url)


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